Face
by Sable Supernova
Summary: Draco can't help but wonder about the strange night-time attacks. The attacker knows that tonight, his game is up. One-shot. M for violence.


Written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, for Book Club.

Chosen book was _The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde_ by Robert Louis Stevenson.

Prompts were:

(Mental Illness) Dissociative identity disorder (Split personalities) - **Bonus!**

(Item) Cane

(Word) sociopath

(Potion) Polyjuice

(Dialogue/Part of a sentence) "I bring the life of that unhappy Henry Jekyll to an end."

Words: 943

Warnings for: Violent attack, mental illness.

* * *

 **Face**

When he woke up, he didn't feel as though he'd even been to sleep. Climbing out of bed, he noticed his leg was sore. The old wound playing up again, no doubt. He reached for his cane to lean on as he headed to the bathroom to relieve himself. Yawning, he made his way downstairs to make coffee, knowing he had to make it through the day somehow. He had a report to write today, and he was not looking forward to it.

His owl arrived with the Daily Prophet on time, and he scoured the front page. _The London Thug Attacks Again._ It looked grim. He scoured the article. Phrases jumped out at him: "... _at three o'clock this morning_ …", "... _jumped out from behind the bushes to attack_ …", "...young woman in a critical condition…", "... _the perpetrator was stabbed in the leg_ …" and "... _Aurors are testing the blood sample left at the scene_ …", and they left him with a deep feeling of nausea.

It had been going on for weeks, at least, only this time, they had something to go on, something that might help them out. They had the bastard's blood.

Work was a blur, as usual. Stress levels peaked in the early afternoon. Scorpius was starting to suspect he hated his job, but he wouldn't admit it. Working in the Back Office at the Ministry was not the life he had imagined. He was still bitter he didn't get into the Auror Office. Just because some nurse had told him when he was seven that he was 'predisposed to certain mental illnesses'. What did she know? She wasn't even a Healer.

"Did you read the news this morning?" Pansy asked as she stuck her head around his office door.

"Yeah, it looks horrible, doesn't it? I hope they catch the sociopath," he commented.

"Sociopath? I think you mean psychopath, don't you?" she asked, but before she could respond, she was called off by her boss.

Draco considered her question for a moment. Something told him that no, he didn't mean psychopath at all.

Heading back home, he praised the Muggles for inventing the television. It was a great anaesthetic that made eating dinner alone that little bit less lonely. He did a few chores around the house before settling into bed for the night, lying on his left side with a heavy sigh. Every day was the same, and it sucked. This was not the life he had planned.

* * *

He woke up on his right side with a wicked grin. It was late, the sun had long set, and he rose to stand, grunting at the pain that shot up his leg. He picked up his wand and aimed it at his limb, numbing the senses. Pain would not stop him tonight.

Pulling open the top drawer in the bedside cabinet, he took out the few things that were in there and removed the false floor, revealing vials of potions. He pulled one out and drank the Polyjuice swiftly, not knowing who he would be tonight, and not caring. He was always himself, anyway. He placed everything back where it was, leaving no trail, and grabbed a coat on his way downstairs and out the door.

He found his victim sat on a park bench alone. She was drunk, in a skirt that was too short, crying. He made to sit next to her, and she immediately flashed him a bright, glazed-eyed smile.

"You're a pretty one," she droned.

"I thought so, too, when I looked in the mirror," he replied, and she laughed, not knowing he was only vaguely aware of what he looked like.

"Hey, you got a smoke?" she asked.

"Just finished a packet. I was going to get some more actually," he said, motioning further into the darkness of the park. "Fancy a walk?"

"I don't go into dark places with strangers, thanks," she retorted. He flashed her a wide grin.

"Eddie Hider," he introduced himself, quite naturally. "There, not strangers."

She laughed again. "Fine, but no murdering or raping me," she warned him.

"I promise," he returned.

It always amazed him how quickly the lonely leapt to trust for the sake of companionship.

He led her into the cover of the trees and could hardly contain himself. He started gently, with a harsh fist in the back of her head. As she fell to the floor, stumbling in her heels and drunkenness, he smiled.

Her face looked up at him in horror.

"You promised me," she choked out.

"I don't want to rape or murder you. I just want to watch you fear me," he told her, standing on her arm so as to pin her to the ground. She began to scream, but his wand moved too quickly, silencing her.

 _What's that?_ he saw her mouth, unable to make a sound.

He responded by punching her in the stomach. She tried to scramble away from him when she'd recovered, but she had nowhere to escape to. She was trapped, and he relished in it.

When he was done, she had no fight left in her. She lay, crumpled and broken, on the ground, sobbing into her arm. He stood and watched, even as he felt the Polyjuice Potion wear off. He was not surprised when the Aurors found him, but they were surprised by what they found. Potter stepped forward first, like he had expected.

"Draco Malfoy," he said, by way of recognition.

"No," Eddie responded.

"Then who are you?" Potter demanded.

"I am no one. I am his saviour. I bring the life of that unhappy Draco Malfoy to an end."

And he laughed.


End file.
